


Pretty Things

by TheNarator



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Kidnapping, M/M, Mafia AU, Obsession, Organized Crime, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Torture, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-19 23:57:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7382713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNarator/pseuds/TheNarator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Eobard Thawne is the head of the most notorious crime family in Central City. One day he crosses paths with Cisco Ramon, and immediately decides he wants Cisco for himself. He sees a future for the two of them, and he'll go to any lengths to achieve that future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> obligatory ridiculous mafia au

Eobard Thawne had always known the value of a good relationship with law enforcement.

His predecessor as the head of the Thawne family, his brother Robern, had been an extremely tiresome man no more suited to organized crime than Eobard was to grade school teaching, and he hadn’t understood that value. He’d flaunted the family’s exploits in front of the law, publicly taunting Captain Singh, smug and confident in his ability to evade the police. It had caused no small amount of trouble for Eobard while he’d been his brother’s subordinate, and it had shown Eobard just how much he didn’t want to be the subject of vendettas within the police department.

Eobard didn’t enjoy killing people, in general, but he’d enjoyed killing his brother.

Thus here he was, in person and without his usual entourage of bodyguards, coming to pay his respects to Iris West, the new chief of police in Central City. He’d managed to salvage something of an understanding between himself and Captain Singh, once he’d risen to power within the family, but that had been tentative and unstable. He wanted a better relationship with Iris.

She rose when he entered her office, her face hard. She knew who he was, and had clearly been expecting his visit, if the way that her gun was sitting innocently on the desk was any indication. Eobard gave her his best charming smile, but she only narrowed her eyes at him in confusion.

“Captain West,” Eobard inclined his head respectfully.

“Mr. Thawne,” Iris replied. She motioned for him to sit, and when he did so she relaxed hesitantly back into her chair. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I merely came to congratulate you,” Eobard assured her. He kept his posture relaxed and open, but didn’t get too comfortable. This was still her domain, after all.

“Thank you,” Iris said curtly. “I only hope to live up to Captain Singh’s example.”

“Great man, the Captain,” Eobard told her seriously. “Excellent officer. A good friend of mine.”

“Was he?” Iris didn’t bother hiding her disbelief.

Eobard gave her another winning smile. “I hope you and I can be friends as well.”

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t take that at face value,” Iris replied. “I’m trying to be careful about who I take into my confidence.”

“Wise,” Eobard commented. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea; there was nothing untoward about our friendship. I merely meant that I’m not as prone to rash, impulsive actions as some men in my position are, and he was the same. We appreciated that about each other.”

What he meant by this was that Singh had known how to pick his battles. Eobard didn’t start conflicts within his territory, and when they arose he finished them swiftly and with minimal bloodshed. Petty crime went down considerably with Robern gone, and the police department had been credited. As heads of crime families went, Eobard was much better than he might have been, and it was beneficial to leave him to his own devices rather than dethroning him and risking another like Robern taking his place.

Iris seemed to understand this, for she glared at Eobard but didn’t challenge him. She thanked him, politely if a little coldly, for his visit, and he left the office reasonably satisfied.

As he left the precinct Eobard found himself being stared at openly. Many of the men and women in uniform stopped what they were doing to watch him go, some of them standing up for a better look. He withstood the scrutiny, smiling and nodding whenever someone addressed him, as he made his way towards the door. His useless nephew glared at him, and Eobard gave him a sly, knowing smile. He might have fooled the CCPD into thinking he wasn’t worthless, but Eobard knew the truth about him. Unremarkable, in every possible way.

When he passed the staircase leading to the upper stories where the CSIs worked, Eobard found the head CSI, Iris West’s fiance, standing at the foot of the stairs. Like Eddie he glared, doubtlessly feeling impotent for letting his soon-to-be wife handle Eobard on her own, but as he stood there another man came bounding down the stairs to come up short beside him.

“Barry!” he said excitedly, completely ignoring Eobard in favor of grabbing Barry’s shoulder. “I think I’ve figured it out!”

Eobard stared at the newcomer, transfixed. He looked wildly out of place in a police precinct, with his long silky hair and layered graphic t-shirts over startlingly pink pants. He had warm brown skin that looked soft to the touch, with bright, eager eyes and a plush mouth stretched wide in a delighted grin. He was captivating, and Eobard found himself exceedingly curious about him.

“Not now Cisco,” Barry shook him off, not taking his eyes off Eobard.

“No no,” Eobard said gently, waving Barry off as he turned to address Cisco. “What did you figure out?”

Cisco looked nervously between Barry and Eobard. “A compound that should be able to make certain fabrics virtually bulletproof,” he said tentatively.

Eobard’s eyes went wide. A compound like that could go for millions of dollars, and would be exceedingly useful to many, himself included. It could revolutionize undercover operations for the police, or make his own men completely untouchable. That this boy, who couldn’t have been out of his twenties, had come up with something like that . . .

Beautiful, and brilliant.

“Eobard Thawne,” he held out a hand. “And who might you be?”

“Cisco Ramon,” the young man shook it, smiling shyly. “I’m a science consultant for the police.”

“Fascinating,” Eobard said, with total honesty. “You managed to develop a compound like that in a place like this? I would have thought it would require a bigger lab.”

Cisco shrugged. “I get by,” he said, obviously trying not to sound smug.

“Cisco works for us,” Barry said aggressively, shoving Cisco behind himself slightly. “He wants to do _good_ in the world.”

Eobard paid him not attention. “Still,” he said to Cisco, “you must need more equipment than you’d have access to here.”

“You gotta make due with what you can,” Cisco smiled brightly at him, and Eobard felt his breath catch.

“That’s enough Thawne,” Barry placed himself more squarely between Eobard and Cisco. He stood almost a head taller than the boy behind him, closer to Eobard’s height, and the two of them stared each other down while Cisco shuffled uncomfortably in the background.

“Well,” said Eobard, smiling as he backed down with great reluctance, “if you gentlemen will excuse me.”

He walked away a few steps, enough for Barry to relax, then turned and locked eyes with Cisco. “I hope to see you again soon,” he said, giving Cisco a flirtatious smile, and was gratified to see the boy blush ever so slightly.

Eobard left the precinct with a strange feeling of excitement tingling inside him, like lightning beneath his skin. It had been a long time since he wanted something that wasn’t the removal of some obstacle to his power, something that he could hold and touch and possess. He didn’t consider himself a man driven by desire, but he was only human, and someone of his wealth and power and intellect ought to be able to indulge himself every now and again. Eobard wanted Cisco Ramon, and he would have him.

This particular seduction would have to be a cautious endeavor. He would need to be patient, go slowly, woo his prize gently and with infinite care. Doubtless Cisco was already being told in no uncertain terms that Eobard was the head of the largest and most powerful mob family in Central City, so he would have to convince Cisco that he was harmless, that the police were wrong about him.

He knew just how to begin.

***

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Barry looked on in horrified disbelief as technician after technician carried enormous pieces of top of the line equipment into Cisco’s lab.

Iris stood beside him, silent but glaring. Barry knew that she’d have liked to send them all packing, but to refuse the donation would have been career suicide with how tight the budget constantly was.

Cisco, however, was looking at the new equipment hungrily. “What’s the matter?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the installation process. “It’s just a harmless donation, right?”

“From the head of the most powerful crime family in Central City!” Barry protested, then lowered his voice when Iris turned her glare on him. “He is bad news Cisco, whatever his reason for giving us this he _has_ to have an ulterior motive.”

“But that would be dumb though,” Cisco protested. “Giving us equipment we could use to make stuff that will help us take him down? Isn’t that kind of counterintuitive?”

“Unless he’s playing us,” Barry pointed out suspiciously. “He could be trying to sabotage your work, or maybe monitor it so he can steal it later.”

“Steal it?” Cisco repeated. “From inside the police precinct? The building with the highest concentration of law enforcement officers in Central City?”

“It could be bugged,” Barry argued, “or there could be something else wrong with it. I’m telling you Cisco, you cannot use this stuff!”

Cisco looked dubious, and Barry turned plaintive eyes on Iris, willing her to back him up. Iris watched the technicians working for another moment, expression contemplative, then looked at Cisco.

“Do a sweep for hidden transmitters before you use any of it,” Iris instructed. “After that, go ahead.”

“What!” Barry demanded.

“Thawne wants to get on our good side,” Iris told him. “This could be exactly what it seems: a gift.”

“You mean a bribe,” Barry corrected sourly.

“As long as it’s to the department and not a person individually, it’s not a bribe,” Iris reminded him. “At least not legally.”

“You may want to reconsider that argument,” said a reedy woman with a clipboard who had been monitoring the technicians. She approached the trio, then turned her attention to Cisco and handed him a sealed envelope, gold bordered and with his name written on it in elegant cursive.

Cisco took it tentatively, then turned to Iris with wide eyes. “What am I supposed to do with this?” he wanted to know.

“It’s from Mr. Thawne,” the woman explained, capping her pen decisively. “He sends his regards, and hopes that you enjoy the equipment.”

With that she turned on her heel and marched away, a dozen or so technicians trailing behind her.

Iris nodded at the envelope, and Cisco opened it carefully.

“My dear Mr. Ramon,” Cisco read aloud. “I greatly enjoyed meeting you, and I can only hope the feeling was mutual. After our conversation I couldn’t stop thinking about an intellect of your caliber working with inferior equipment, so I took the liberty of supplying you with something better. I hope it helps with your work, and that you and I can continue our acquaintance in the future.”

Cisco looked up, and Barry glanced over at Iris to find her rubbing her temples. “Oh god,” she grumbled, “he’s courting you.”

“What?” Cisco squeaked, looking horrified.

“He wants you to work for him,” Iris explained. “He’s hoping to show you that he can give you a better lab than the department can.”

“This is definitely a bribe now,” Barry concluded.

“We still can’t turn it away,” Iris insisted, then turned to Cisco. “I stand by what I said; sweep it for bugs, then use it.”

“I’m not going to owe him anything, will I?” Cisco asked nervously.

“He’ll think you will,” Iris told him, “but it’s more dangerous to refuse.”

Cisco swallowed.

“Don’t worry,” Barry said, putting a hand on Cisco’s shoulder. “I’m not going to let you deal with him alone.”

***

Cisco really shouldn’t have been surprised that, the next time he had to deal with Thawne, he was alone.

He heard the door open and the footsteps entering his lab, but he didn’t turn right away. Barry had been impatiently poking his head in all morning, wanting for an update on Cisco’s latest project, and Cisco simply assumed he was back again.

“I won’t be done for at least another hour,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll give you a full report when I’m finished, but I need to work!”

“Should I come back then?” asked a light, amused voice that was most definitely not Barry.

Cisco whirled around, to find Eobard Thawne standing in the doorway. He was leaning casually against the doorframe, an easy smile on his face but his eyes twinkling with something a little deeper as he gave Cisco the once over.

Cisco cleared his throat nervously. “Mr. Thawne,” he greeted.

“Please, there’s no need to be so formal,” Thawne said, waving a hand. “Call me Eobard.”

“Eobard,” Cisco repeated. The name seemed odd on his tongue, and he wasn’t entirely sure he was comfortable with using it, but he couldn’t think of a polite way to refuse.

Eobard gave him a disarming smile, taking a few leisurely steps inside. Cisco backed up against the table he’d been working at, and Eobard froze.

“I see,” he said, after a moment’s hesitation. “You’re afraid of me.”

“No,” Cisco said reflexively, then winced. “I mean-”

“It’s alright,” Eobard held up a hand, looking sad. “I understand that my brother gave our family a reputation.”

“Your brother?” Cisco asked curiously.

“Robern,” Eobard explained. “He was a bit of a bad egg. Very violent. It doesn’t surprise me at all that he met the end he did.”

“Which was?” Cisco wondered.

“He was murdered,” Eobard told him, keeping his gaze fixed on Cisco.

“I’m sorry,” Cisco said quietly, lowering his eyes.

“That’s very kind of you,” Eobard smiled tiredly, “but you’re one of only a few.”

Cisco coughed, not sure what to say to that.

“I’ve been trying to restore my family’s reputation,” Eobard informed him seriously. “Especially with the law.”

“So you donated thousands of dollars worth of equipment to the most unconventional division of the CCPD?” Cisco questioned.

Eobard’s smile was less tired and more pleased. “I have a preference for things which are . . . unconventional.”

He looked Cisco up and down again, and there was something strangely predatory in his eyes. Cisco felt like he were being sized up, like Eobard was prying him apart with his eyes to inspect his darkest secrets.

“How are you enjoying the equipment?” Eobard asked when Cisco had been silent for a few moments.

“It’s awesome!” said Cisco, forgetting to be afraid as his gaze fell lovingly onto the banks of high tech machines. “It’s the best I’ve ever worked with, and I’ve worked in a lot of different labs. Do you have any idea what the processing power on these babies-”

He was interrupted by a small chuckle from Eobard.

“Oh,” Cisco blushed, looking down. “I’m rambling again.”

“By all means,” Eobard made a grand sweeping gesture with one hand, “ramble away.”

“You don’t want to listen to me,” Cisco assured him. “Not when I really get going.”

“On the contrary,” Eobard protested. “I came here with the express purpose of listening to you ramble all through lunch.”

Cisco blinked. “What?”

“I find myself with a gap in my schedule,” Eobard informed him. “I was wondering if you’d like to let me take you out. My treat?”

“Um,” Cisco’s brain stalled. He knew that if Iris were here she’d be glaring at him not to accept an offer like that from someone like Eobard, and Barry would probably be yelling a similar sentiment at top volume, but he felt awkward turning the older man down.

When Cisco didn’t answer right away though, Eobard bowed his head slightly and backed up a step. “I understand.”

“You understand what?” Cisco said quickly.

“I’ve made you feel obligated,” Eobard said. Cisco opened his mouth to protest, but Eobard held up a hand. “No no, it’s quite alright. You have no reason to trust me, especially when no one else in this building does.”

Cisco frowned, feeling a pang of discomfort in his chest. Suddenly Eobard seemed smaller, weaker, when he took into consideration that the entire precinct had a grudge against him. Cisco remembered what he’d said about his brother, and about wanting to repair his family’s reputation. It seemed unfair that they were all judging him for something he couldn’t control. Maybe Iris was wrong about him; she had no way of knowing, if all she had to go on was Robern’s reputation.

“Wait,” said Cisco hurriedly when Eobard turned to go. “Let me grab my jacket.”

Eobard smiled, a bright, delighted smile that made Cisco feel warm inside. “Perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to think that all the choices i've made in my life have led me here. to this. writing bad organized crime aus for a ship no one cares about.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my gosh i love all you guys! the response to chapter one was so overwhelmingly positive i can't believe i ever doubted this ship! i honestly thought everyone had left reversevibe to ship harrisco, but it's so nice to see that people are still here!

“You _what?!_ ” Barry exploded, staring at Cisco in horror.

“You see,” said Cisco from where he was sheltering behind his raised arms, “this is why I was nervous about telling you.”

“Cisco you cannot do this,” Barry insisted, grabbing Cisco by the shoulders. “You can’t, you just, you can’t!”

“I can and I will,” Cisco shrugged out of Barry’s grip. “I’m already halfway there, really, and you can either be happy for me or-”

“You’re not actually going to do this,” Barry told him, beginning to pace back and forth in his agitation. “You’re not seriously going to _move in_ with Eobard Thawne, the single most powerful mob boss in Central City!”

Cisco sighed. He’d been afraid that Barry wouldn’t understand, Eobard had told him as much, but Barry was his best friend and Cisco had thought he might just be okay with this. He didn’t want to keep secrets anymore, and of all the people in his life who he wanted to know about his relationship Barry was the top of the list. If anyone was going to understand, it would be him.

“I’m already doing it,” Cisco informed him gently. “I almost live there already, what with all the clothes I have at his place and all the time I spend with him, and-”

“Why do you have clothes at his place?” Barry demanded. “Why are you spending time with him at all?”

“Well he invited me out to lunch one day,” Cisco recounted, “then there was dinner the following week, and then one thing led to another-”

“Oh god,” Barry whined. “You’re _dating_ him? How long has this been going on?”

“About six months,” Cisco smiled guiltily. “Surprise?”

Barry made a long agonized moaning sound.

“We were going to tell you,” Cisco defended, “but the time was never really right and he _knew_ you’d react like this-”

“Like what?” Barry threw up his hands. “Terror and confusion? Hopelessness and despair? My _best friend_ is dating a _career criminal_ Cisco, how did you _think_ I was going to react!?”

Cisco glowered. “He’s not a criminal.”

Barry stopped pacing and turned to him, wide-eyed. “You mean you honestly think he’s legit?” Barry asked. “Did Iris and I not tell you that-”

“He’s the most dangerous criminal mastermind in Central City, yes yes I know,” Cisco said tiredly, rolling his eyes. “You’ve got this all wrong though, it’s not like that.”

“Tell me then,” Barry crossed his arms over his chest, “what is it ‘like’ Cisco?”

“That was his brother,” Cisco said patiently. “Eobard isn’t like that. He’s trying to clean things up, repair his family’s reputation-”

“He’s still committing crimes though!” Barry protested. “He’s smuggling millions of dollars worth of drugs into the city, selling heavy-duty weapons illegally, hell they’re even involved in human trafficking-”

“If you had a shred of evidence that he was involved in any of that you’d have arrested him already,” Cisco interrupted, glaring at Barry.

“It’s not that simple Cisco,” Barry argued, but Cisco merely rolled his eyes.

“You don’t get it,” Cisco told him. “He’s a good guy. If you just saw how he is with me-”

“You’re his _mistress_ Cisco!” Barry shouted. “Of course he’s nice to you!”

“I’m not his _mistress_ ,” Cisco scoffed. “We’re not having an _affair,_ we’re _dating._ ”

“You’re dating a criminal,” Barry insisted.

“I’m dating a great guy whose family has a bad reputation,” Cisco corrected.

“You cannot seriously believe that,” Barry said, looking despairingly at Cisco.

“What I can’t believe is that my best friend isn’t even _trying_ to understand where I’m coming from,” Cisco growled. “How can you be so judgemental?”

“How can you be so blind?” Barry countered.

Cisco scoffed and turned away.

“Cisco,” Barry said more gently, coming up behind him and putting a hand on his shoulder, “you can’t do this. You can’t actually move in with him, he can’t be trusted.”

“Yeah, well,” Cisco pulled roughly out of his grip, “maybe all he needs to be trustworthy is for someone to give him a chance to prove he always has been.”

Barry said his name again, tried to pull him back, but Cisco was having none of it. If all Barry was going to do was try and talk him out of doing what made him happy then Cisco didn’t have any more time for him. When Barry tried to touch him again Cisco jerked away and marched out of the lab, leaving Barry calling uselessly after him.

***

“So,” Eobard said, marking the page in his book when he glanced up to see Cisco entering the bedroom, “how did it go with Barry?”

He was reclining on the red silk sheets of their large, luxurious bed, the one they’d shared for nearly four months now. His chest was bare, muscles clearly defined despite his age, and his long legs were hidden beneath the plush comforter. Cisco approached him, also dressed for bed, and he set his book aside and welcomed his lover under the sheets beside him.

“About as well as could be expected,” Cisco sighed as he snuggled under the covers.

Eobard turned toward him, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at Cisco.

“Meaning?” he pressed.

“It blew up in my face,” Cisco groused, putting one arm beneath his head. “Barry reacted exactly like you said he would, started yelling about how you were a criminal who couldn’t be trusted.”

Eobard gave a wry smile, but said nothing. He didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised, and like so many times before Cisco’s heart went out to him. He couldn’t imagine being so distrusted that he came to expect perfect strangers interfering in his relationships to try and ruin his happiness.

Cisco reached up to cup his cheek. “Hey,” he said softly, “I don’t believe a word of that. Not for a second, okay?”

“I know,” Eobard turned his head slightly so he could kiss Cisco’s palm. “You’re not like the others. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”

Cisco grinned. “Say it again,” he ordered.

Eobard didn't need to be told which part to repeat. “I love you,” he said, as calmly and clearly as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Again!” Cisco laughed.

“I love you,” Eobard repeated, leaning down to kiss Cisco’s smiling mouth. “I love you, I love you.”

“I love you too,” Cisco said happily when Eobard pulled away. “I love you so much I don’t know what to do with it all.”

“Well don’t look at me,” Eobard joked. “I already have so much love for you inside me it feels like I’m going to break open any minute now.”

He slid his free hand up Cisco’s belly, over his chest to caress his neck.

“I ache with it,” he confessed, in all seriousness.

Cisco looked up at him, feeling light and heavy at the same time. He ran the tips of his fingers reverently across the planes of Eobard’s face, feeling those piercing blue eyes boring into him. Eobard took hold of his hand and began to kiss his knuckles, never breaking eye contact, trapping Cisco with his gaze.

“I don’t want you to ache,” Cisco realized. “I want to make you happy. As happy as you make me.”

“You do make me happy,” Eobard assured him. “Happier than I can say. But as long as we’re both bursting with affection-”

He released Cisco’s hand, then moved to crouch over him, settling himself so that his legs bracketed Cisco’s. He pressed down with his hips, letting his younger lover feel his hardness.

“- why don’t we let some of it out?” he suggested, grinning wickedly.

“Aw,” Cisco giggled, “are you going to make love to me? Call me your sweetheart and cuddle with me after?”

“Well I was thinking about calling you my good little slut while I pulled your hair and fucked your mouth,” Eobard said mildly, making Cisco shiver in delight, “but if that’s what you’d rather-”

Cisco surged up to kiss him, the two of them laughing against each other's mouths. Eobard rolled his hips and Cisco rutted upwards in answer, and for a while the two of then simply rocked together, leisurely enjoying the friction. Eventually Eobard abandoned Cisco’s mouth and began to kiss his neck, seeking out the sensitive place behind his ear and lavishing attention there until Cisco was squirming beneath him. Cisco clutched at the smooth skin of the man above him, his hands slipping as his palms began to sweat.

Eventually Cisco had had enough teasing and slid his hands down Eobard’s chest. He forced his way between their bodies to begin working on the drawstring of Eobard’s sleep pants, his own elastic waistband sliding steadily downwards as they ground against each other.

“So impatient,” Eobard remarked against his ear, then trailed his lips over to kiss Cisco deeply again. He kissed like a starving man, like he couldn’t get enough, like any kiss could be their last and he was determined to drink as much pleasure from Cisco’s lips as he could.

“You’re too slow,” Cisco countered when Eobard finally let him up for air. The movement of his hands had stalled while Eobard had been kissing him breathless, but now he continued his efforts to free both their cocks.

Eobard lifted his hips obligingly, and Cisco finally managed to loosen his pants enough to pull out his dick. He shoved his own pants roughly down until they were skin to skin and Cisco could take them both in hand.

“Yes,” Eobard sighed against his mouth when Cisco began to stroke them both with one hand. “Like that, pretty boy, like that.”

“You’d swear no one had ever touched your dick before,” Cisco laughed, only to be silenced by another bruising kiss.

“No one like you,” Eobard replied, voice even despite the way he was thrusting into Cisco’s grip. “Never anyone like you.”

“Like me?” Cisco repeated, and his voice wasn't so steady, rising and falling in pitch as he gasped. “What, short, sarcastic and mouthy?”

“Perfect,” Eobard corrected, drawing back to look at Cisco with dark eyes, his pupils blown wide with desire. “Never been with anyone as perfect as you.”

Cisco swallowed, his throat gone dry. He didn’t know what to say to that, to being called perfect like that. He wanted to say something sarcastic and self-deprecating, but for once that didn’t seem appropriate. Eobard seemed to understand, just like he always understood what Cisco needed, and he leaned down to kiss Cisco again before he could reply.

The weight above him shifted, and Cisco gasped when he felt Eobard’s hand covering his own.

“I want you to imagine,” Eobard whispered against his lips, gently pulling Cisco’s hand away, “a year from now. You and I, in this bed, with me _deep_ inside you.”

“Yes,” Cisco whispered, his eyes droping closed when Eobard took both of them in one hand.

“I’m having you slow and leisurely,” Eobard went on, though the rhythm he was setting was anything but slow. “We have all the time in the world.”

“But I want to . . .” Cisco let the sentence hang, knowing Eobard would understand his meaning.

“And you will,” Eobard promised, sipping a light kiss from his lips, “but right now we’re just enjoying each other. We’re reveling in each other, because we know each other every way you can possibly know a person.”

“I think I know you, Eobard,” Cisco said breathlessly, thrusting up into the older man’s grip.

“Not yet,” Eobard corrected, “but you will. A year from now you’ll know everything there is to know about me, and then you can really love me.”

“I do love you,” Cisco insisted, his breath becoming uneven as he neared his climax.

“Not yet,” Eobard said raggedly, pressing his forehead to Cisco’s, “not yet, but you will. I’ll make you love me.”

“I-” _love you,_ Cisco wanted to say, _I promise I do,_ but then he was spilling himself between them and the only sound on his lips was his lover’s name.

When Eobard had rolled off him, the two of them panting and sated, Cisco found himself staring at the ceiling. It was painted, actually _painted_ with a real designs, not just uneven stucco or generic swirls. It just went to show how rich Eobard really was, how many resources he had to find the perfect person to spend his life with.

And he’d picked Cisco.

“I do love you, you know,” Cisco said quietly, turning his head to look at Eobard.

Eobard turned onto his side, facing Cisco again. “I know,” he replied, just as quietly, “but I also know that we’ve moved . . . fairly quickly.”

“Not that quickly,” Cisco defended.

“Fast enough that I know we both have secrets,” Eobard countered. He took Cisco’s hand and kissed the back of it. “I look forward to sharing everything with you, now that you’re here.”

“I look forward to it too,” Cisco told him firmly, and snuggled closer to his side.

“Oh, now you want to cuddle,” Eobard chuckled.

“You could still pull my hair if you want,” Cisco offered, and Eobard laughed.

***

Eobard had always hated journalists.

Here was a profession, he’d often thought, that revolved entirely around poking one’s nose where it didn’t belong. Journalists dealt in information, in knowledge, but rather than being discrete with it they put it out there for the world to see. Information was a precious commodity, in Eobard’s world, and those who just gave it away to whoever would listen were dangerous and untrustworthy.

Of course, those who _sold_ information they had no business having were also dangerous. Which brought him to his current position, circling the broken and bleeding man tied to a chair in his basement.

“Mr. Bridge,” Eobard said calmly, ignoring the little whimpers of pain coming from the man in the chair. “I must admit, I don’t think I understand you as a person.”

Bridge coughed up a mouthful of blood in a manner that Eobard chose to interpret as questioning.

“All you have to do is tell me who in my organization gave you the lead you were following when I found you,” Eobard told him, voice as gentle as he could make it. “Then this . . . unpleasantness will all be over.”

“You’ll kill me,” Bridge protested, voice hoarse from all the yelling he’d done.

“Yes,” Eobard admitted, “but I’m going to kill you one way or the other. If you tell me what I want to know, I’ll make it quick.”

“You think I’m just gonna give up and die?” Bridge rasped.

“You’re already dead,” Eobard informed him. “No one knows you’re here. You told no one you were coming, given that you were going to break the law by breaking into my house. It will be days before anyone even realizes you’re missing.”

He reclaimed his seat, across from Bridge, to look him in the eye.

“No one is coming to save you,” Eobard said solemnly.

Bridge shook his head in denial, but his eyes were haunted. It was true. No one knew where he was, and no one was going to come looking for him until long after Eobard had given up torturing him.

“Tell me where you got your information,” Eobard instructed.

“Go to hell,” Bridge suggested.

Eobard stood and picked up a pair of pliers from a nearby table, and Bridge’s eyes went wide. He let out a string of expletives, interspersed with the occasional “no” and “wait,” but Eobard simply gripped his chin firmly and forced open his mouth. Bridge screamed when Eobard clamped the pliers over one of his front teeth and yanked, and blood began to dribble down his chin as Eobard dropped the tooth into a small metal tray and set down the tool.

Bridge was whimpering again when Eobard sat back down, fresh blood dripping onto his already stained shirt.

“Feeling more talkative?” Eobard inquired.

“Fuck you,” Bridge moaned.

Eobard sighed. “I don’t know what you were expecting,” he told Bridge earnestly. “This is my house. This is where I live. Did you really think I’d be, what, keeping bricks of cocaine inside the walls?”

“He said . . . it would be here,” Bridge said weakly.

“What?” Eobard pressed. “Who said what would be here?”

“Your . . . weakness,” Bridge told him.

Eobard growled, then grabbed Bridge by the hair and yanked his head back. From his pocket he drew a switchblade, standing up to loom over Bridge and pressing the blade against his throat.

“You broke into my _home_ ,” Eobard snarled, “where I keep things that need to be kept _safe_. You put people in danger by coming here!”

“I had to find a way to bring you down,” Bridge protested.

“I will not allow anyone to threaten my way of life,” Eobard hissed, then raised his knife. “Not you, not anyone!”

“Eobard?” came a soft, shaking voice from the direction of stairs.

Eobard’s blood went cold as the familiar sound cut through his rage. He whirled around, to find Cisco standing on the bottom step, dressed in pajamas and with wide, fearful eyes. Eobard’s vision tunneled, until all he could see, all that existed in the world was the shocked, terrified expression on his lover’s face.

“Cisco,” he said hoarsely.

“Run!” Bridge yelled, startling Eobard and Cisco both. Cisco turned on his heel and began sprinting up the stairs, and Eobard paused only long enough to jab the knife into Bridge’s throat, silencing his frantic cries, before grabbing a syringe off his worktable and taking off after him.

“Cisco!” Eobard called when he emerged onto the first floor hallway. Cisco was already halfway to the nearest door, but Eobard’s longer legs made quick work of the distance between them and then he was grabbing the younger man around the waist.

“No!” Cisco screamed, struggling, but Eobard jammed the needle of the syringe into his neck.

“Hush,” he whispered against Cisco’s hair as his muscles began to relax, the fight going out of him as unconsciousness claimed his mind. “It’s alright, you’re safe.”

Cisco went limp in his grasp, and Eobard lifted the younger man into his arms.

“You’re safe,” he repeated, looking down at Cisco’s slack face. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also, someone asked me whether you guys should picture mattobard or tomobard? honestly it doesn't matter. i'm picturing tom myself, but i'm trying my best to not physically describe him so you can picture whoever you like.


	3. Chapter 3

****

Cisco awoke to a hand on his dick and an arm wrapped firmly around his chest.

At first it was nice, as the feeling of someone stroking his dick tended to be. The warm body pressed along his back and the arm holding him close made him feel safe, like someone wanted him. He let the feeling of being touched and held like that wash over him, let it make him feel happy and loved and cared for.

Then he opened his eyes, to see sunlight streaming in through a pair of thick velvet curtains, the skyline of Central City clearly visible out the window. The sight of that view took him out of the moment, took him out of the experience of being touched, woke him from his lazy half-sleep and reminded him where he was and who exactly was touching him.

“Sh sh,” Eobard whispered against his hair when Cisco began to struggle.

“Stop,” Cisco said, knowing it was useless. Eobard wouldn’t let him go until he was finished.

“Stop fighting,” Eobard countered, tightening his hold on Cisco’s chest and dick simultaneously.

“I want you to stop,” Cisco pressed. He squirmed, but it was no good; Eobard’s grip was solid.

“Hush,” Eobard gentled, then went back to long, sure strokes. “Let me make this good for you.”

“I don’t want this,” Cisco shook his head vigorously.

“You do,” Eobard insisted, his breath hot against Cisco’s ear.

He kissed the shell, and Cisco shuddered. Eobard knew all the places where he was sensitive. Where he was vulnerable.

“You know what you have to do to make it stop,” Eobard insisted, the smile evident in his voice. “Just come for me, pretty boy, and I’ll let you go.”

He was referring, of course, to the arm he had around Cisco’s chest. He had no intention of letting Cisco go in any way that mattered. No amount of sexual favors would get him out of here.

Cisco closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on coming. Part of him wanted to fall back asleep, fall back into that blissful ignorance, but he was awake now and all too aware. It wouldn’t have done him any good anyway; the one time he had come before waking up Eobard had tried to press further once he was fully conscious. He tried to imagine that someone else, anyone else, was touching him, but Eobard’s voice in his ear made it impossible.

“You’re hard,” he said quietly, “so I know you’re enjoying this. You don’t have to hold back you know; you’re not proving anything by pretending.”

Cisco wasn’t pretending, but his traitorous body was all too happy to pretend for him, and it continued to respond to Eobard’s touch even as Cisco’s mind was revolted by it.

“Just let it happen,” Eobard crooned, nosing at his hair affectionately. “Your body trusts me, so why can’t you?”

Cisco’s hips jerked involuntarily, and he whimpered.

“That’s it,” Eobard increased the speed of his strokes, “there’s my good boy. Obey your body; it knows what you need. It knows you need me.”

“Please,” Cisco whined, not really sure what he was begging for. No matter how it ended, he just wanted it to be over.

“I’m here,” Eobard said, in a manner Cisco assumed was meant to be comforting, 

“I . . .” Cisco began, trying to protest, but Eobard clearly thought he was asking for more.

“Hush, my clever boy, I’ve got you,” Eobard swiped his thumb across the head, making Cisco suck in a hurried breath. “All you have to do is give yourself to me, and I’ll give you everything.”

Before Cisco could respond, Eobard bit down hard on the place where his neck met his shoulder. Cisco gave a shout as he came, unwilling and unexpected. It felt like the orgasm was being forced out of him, like Eobard had reached inside him and pulled it out with filthy, bloody hands.

“There,” Eobard said smugly when Cisco had stopped coming, “that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Cisco gave no answer. Eobard released him and he curled into a ball, trying to shield himself from what had just happened, from everything that had happened recently.

He heard Eobard give a weary sigh. “You can pout all you want, I know you liked it.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Cisco bit out.

He felt fingers in his hair, lightly stroking it out of his face, and he flinched away.

“Your housekeeper tells me you haven’t been eating,” Eobard informed him.

“I’m not hungry,” Cisco lied. In truth he was famished; it was why he’d had so little energy as to fall asleep in the middle of the day, leaving himself vulnerable to a surprise attack when Eobard had come to visit him.

“It’s been three months,” Eobard reminded him. “I thought we were past this stage.”

“Stage?” Cisco repeated, finally turning around to look at Eobard. “Are there ‘stages’ to inducing Stockholm Syndrome? Are you working from a set of instructions?”

He sat up, and the other man did the same. Eobard carded a hand through his own hair, sighing, then gave Cisco an earnest look of worry.

“You’re making this harder than it needs to be,” he insisted. “If you keep fighting me like this we’ll never get back to where we were.”

“Where we were?” Cisco demanded. “Where we were was a lie!”

“No,” Eobard said before he could get another word out. “I have never lied to you, Cisco, I swear it.”

“You lied about being a criminal!” Cisco snarled. “You lied about your job, your family, everything!”

“I may have left some things out,” Eobard admitted, “but I have never,  _ ever _ lied to you about us.”

“Us?” Cisco said incredulously. “There is no us-”

“There was,” Eobard insisted. “There can be again. I want to be with you, Cisco, I- I love you.”

He gave a weak, pleading smile. “I ache with it.”

“Go ahead and ache,” Cisco snapped, turning away. “I hope you die of it.”

There was a rustling of sheets and the distribution of weight on the bed shifted. He heard Eobard’s bare feet padding across the room, then turning around and coming back, climbing once more onto to the bed. He crawled over to where Cisco sat facing away from him and touched his shoulder lightly, but Cisco only curled in on himself further.

Eobard scooted closer and reached around Cisco to place his hand in Cisco’s line of sight. Clutched between his fingers was a ring, a platinum band with an impressive diamond. Simple. Elegant. Traditional.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Cisco said in disgust.

“Too many men in my position would be content to just lock you away,” Eobard pointed out.

“You  _ have _ locked me away,” Cisco replied bitterly.

“But I don’t  _ want _ to,” Eobard insisted. “I don’t want that life for you, Cisco, to be . . .  _ kept _ like this. I don’t want you cooped up in here forever.”

“No,” Cisco spat, “you want me in a lab, making weapons you can use to kill cops.”

“I’ve told you this before,” Eobard said firmly, “that was part of it in the beginning, but not anymore.”

He reached up to tuck a lock of Cisco’s hair behind his ear, pressing forward despite the way Cisco recoiled.

“I love you far too much to care about that,” Eobard told him solemnly.

Cisco scoffed and turned away.

“I want a  _ life _ with you,” Eobard told him. “I want to be with you and make you happy. I made you happy once, I can do it again, if only you’ll let me. So please-”

He held out the ring once more.

“-take it?”

Cisco looked at the ring for a moment, examining the way it sparkled in the light. Then he smacked at Eobard’s hand and it clattered away across the floor.

Eobard sighed, then stood up from the bed and headed for the door. Cisco hoped this meant that he would leave, but instead he simply opened the double doors to the massive bedroom.

“Mr. Thawne,” said a voice Cisco recognized, its tone subdued and businesslike.

“Patty?” Cisco asked in disbelief, turning over to see her standing in the doorway.

“Hi Cisco,” said the former police detective, smiling at him almost apologetically.

Cisco flipped the bedsheet over his lap, embarrassed, then rooted around in the covers for the boxers he’d been wearing when he’d laid down for a nap, the ones that Eobard had removed when he . . .

Once he was decent Cisco got out of bed and stumbled over to stand before Patty.

“What are you doing here?” he wondered, looking suspiciously between her and Eobard. “I thought you left to join the FBI or something.”

“Cisco,” Eobard said, a note of formality in his tone. “Meet your new bodyguard.”

“What?” Cisco demanded, staring at Patty with wide eyes.

“Ms. Spivot here,” Eobard explained, “is in a lot of debt to me. I helped her find the man who killed her father; it’s because of my help that she got her revenge.”

“You didn’t,” Cisco covered his mouth with his hands, horrified.

Patty looked pained, but nodded.

“And unless she wants evidence of that revenge sent to the police,” Eobard went on, “she’s going to help me keep you safe.”

“You mean keep me compliant,” Cisco growled. “You bastard, how could you!”

“I’ll do more than this,” Eobard promised. “For your sake, I’ll do anything.”

Cisco glared, but no defiant words would come. Not with Patty standing right there, staring at him with pity in her eyes.

Eobard smiled, then stepped closer into Cisco’s personal space. Cisco didn’t dare move as Eobard’s lips found his ear, but the hot breath didn’t make him tremble half as much as the words that were spoken.

“The next time you refuse food I’ll bring you your brother’s finger,” Eobard whispered, then kissed his hair tenderly and left the room.

***

Just as Barry was slipping into a light doze, his chin slid off his hand and he banged his head on his desk.

Barry let out a frustrated noise and straightened, rubbing what promised to be an impressive lump on his head. He blinked, looking around his darkened workroom at home for some sign of what he’d been doing before he nodded off. The only light came from his desk lamp, and the rest of the room was in shadow. Despite this, he could clearly see the piles of papers on his desk, the mound of empty plates and coffee mugs, and the corkboard where he had arranged all his evidence for the missing person case he’d been working on.

He had to work on this particular case at home because the department wouldn't let him investigate the disappearance of a friend. Cisco had been missing for three months though, and the department had nothing, so Barry couldn’t sit idly by. He knew who had done this: Eobard Thawne, the scumbag mob boss who had tricked Cisco into becoming his mistress, had abducted and imprisoned him. Now Barry just had to figure out where.

He didn’t realize how long he’d been staring at the board until he heard the sound of a coffee mug being set down on his desk. He turned, to find that Iris had entered the room without his noticing.

“This is how I know you love me,” Barry sighed, picking up the cup and taking a sip. Perfect.

Iris, however, looked grim. “Drink up,” she said, tossing a cream colored envelope with a silver border onto his desk. “You’re going to need it.”

“What’s this?” Barry asked, picking it up. It was already open; Iris had doubtlessly read it first.

“A break in the case,” she said vaguely.

Barry opened he envelope, pulled out the card within and read the first few lines.

“A  _ wedding! _ ” he yelled in disbelief. “Eobard’s forcing him into a  _ wedding! _ ”

“We’ve got no evidence that he’s forcing him,” Iris pointed out grimly.

“There’s no way Cisco agreed to this,” Barry insisted. “I know Cisco, he does not disappear for three months, without telling  _ anyone, _ and then come back just to get  _ married. _ ”

“You know that and I know that,” Iris told him, “but we can’t prove it.”

Barry swiveled around angrily in his chair to stare at his computer screen. He wiggled the mouse to get it out of sleep mode, then clicked open his email to see if Cisco had contacted him with so much as a word of explanation. As he turned out he did have a new email, but he was surprised to discover that it wasn’t from Cisco, but from an old girlfriend. He opened it curiously, then scanned the opening paragraph.

“Hey Iris,” he called over his shoulder as she made to leave the room. “Do you remember Patty Spivot?”

“Vaguely,” Iris turned, a sour expression on her face. She never liked Barry mentioning his old girlfriends, any more than Barry liked hearing about her old boyfriends.

Barry turned the computer screen towards his wife. “I think you’ll want to see this.”

***

Contrary to what one might believe knowing what she’d done to her father’s murderer, Patty Spivot knew right from wrong. There were times when the law disagreed with what was truly right, which was why she’d opted to work outside it and become a vigilante, but cops had their uses. She’d stopped a murderer, made sure two rapists would never touch anyone again, and broken up a prostitution ring without anyone’s help. For her most recent rescue mission, she was going to need back-up.

Her ex-boyfriend Barry wasn’t ideal back-up (the man wore bow-ties for god’s sake) but his wife was a police captain. More importantly though, they both knew Cisco, and they would do anything to save him. Cisco had that effect on people. Even mob bosses.

“Are you sure this is necessary?” Cisco sighed, as he examined the platinum ring as though it were a wart on his finger.

“We need to wait for a time when he feels safe,” Patty told him. “He’ll be one his guard until this is over; so, we wait ‘til it’s over.”

“The reception?” Cisco speculated.

“The reception,” Patty confirmed.

Patty stood by the door through the ceremony. She only nodded politely to Barry and Iris, a stiff greeting from the ex-girlfriend to the wife. Barry was nervous, but that was to be expected with these two women meeting. The West-Allens sat and looked grim, but no one paid them any attention. They were merely there because they were expected.

They were not permitted to talk to Cisco. Barry tried, tokenly, but Patty was forced to block him.

“Keep it together Allen,” she growled.

“I just wanna make it look good,” Barry protested, pouting and almost too loud.

“I’m sorry sir,” Patty said, loud enough that those closest by could hear her clearly, “I’m going to have to ask you to step back.”

Barry grumbled, but let himself be pulled away by Iris.

Dante Ramon was not in attendance. That would have made things easier, but Eobard was determined that nothing would go wrong. That meant having his leverage somewhere out of Cisco’s sight, ensuring that he could be anywhere, being subjected to anything.

Cisco performed his part admirably. He smiled politely at the guests, barely shivered when Eobard touched him, and dutifully recited all his lines. Anyone who got close could see the empty look in his eyes, but clearly Eobard didn’t care. Marriage came first, in this case, a binding contract that would secure Cisco’s place in the family. Love, he apparently reasoned, would follow.

When it was over, and Eobard was dancing with his stiff, captive husband, Patty watched from a distance as the two of them talked quietly together. She couldn’t make out most of their conversation, but from what she could tell Cisco was asking for a reward for his compliance. Only what he’d been told he would have, and Eobard had promised, hadn't he?

“Please?” Patty heard him ask, a too-innocent pout on his face. It was almost too much, too obviously manipulative, but Eobard was clearly feeling indulgent and as Patty watched closely he bent down to whisper in Cisco’s ear.

Cisco gave the signal, and Patty made her move.

“Sir,” she said quietly, coming up beside her employer, “there’s been a disturbance by the south entrance.”

“Handle it,” Eobard said dismissively, glaring.

Cisco looked at with pleading eyes.

“You’re going to want to see this,” she said, head bent to hide her eyes. “We . . . may need to evacuate.”

That got Eobard’s attention. Any threat that might require Cisco to be moved in a hurry represented a weak point in his security, a crack through which his precious pet might slip. If he could prevent that by dealing with it himself . . .

“Watch him,” he ordered, then took off at a brisk walk to the south side of the building.

Patty took Cisco by the arm and escorted him sedately off the dance floor. She could feel Cisco practically vibrating with the urge to run, but she held him fast. They weren’t out of the woods yet.

“Hey,” called one of the other security guards as Patty made for the side door, “where are you going?”

“Boss wants him out of sight,” Patty lied easily. “There’s been a disturbance. East entrance”

The guard turned and signaled to his fellows, but stayed with Patty and Cisco. “I’ll cover you,” he said, then lead the way out the door.

“Put your hands up,” said Detective Eddie Thawne, his gun and the guns of the other three officers trained on Eobard’s thug. Before he could warn anyone Patty reached over his shoulder and jerked the radio secured there out of its holster. Then she trained her gun on the back of his head.

“Don’t make a sound,” she advised.

As one of the cops moved to cuff the security guard, Eddie put his gun away and moved to take Cisco gently by the arm.

“You okay?” he asked.

Cisco nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

“Does that mean-”

“He’s got Dante in the basement of the manor,” Cisco told him. “He told me while we were dancing.”

Eddie pulled out his radio.

“Move on the house,” he instructed, “target is the basement, radio as soon as he’s secure.”

***

Twenty minutes later, they were hauling Eobard out of the building in handcuffs.

“Eobard Thawne,” Iris recited, “you’re under arrest for the kidnapping, unlawful imprisonment, rape, blackmail and whatever else I can make stick to you.”

“Cisco!” Eobard called, looking around frantically. “Where is he? Where is my husband?”

Cisco waited until Eobard was halfway into the police car before answering. “Here,” he said, and Iris paused in the middle of shoving Eobard into the car.

“Cisco,” Eobard breathed a sigh of relief, “tell them, tell them it’s not true. It’s a mistake; you wanted everything. You want to be with me.”

Cisco smiled, broken and shaky but still triumphant. He’d been waiting three months for this.

“I hate you so much,” he said, a gentle, loving tone to his voice. “I ache with it.”

***

“Don’t open it,” Barry advised, handing the envelope back to Cisco.

They were in Iris and Barry’s house, where Cisco had asked to stay until the trial was over. He’d testified two days ago, for the prosecution, and this morning a letter had arrived for him. From Eobard.

“It could be a threat,” Iris pointed out. “He has to open it.”

“Then you open it,” Barry protested. “Heck, I’ll do it, just don’t make him read any more of that garbage Iris!”

It wasn’t the first letter Eobard had sent him from prison. They came every few days, handwritten dollar store pen, strings of apologies and pleas for Cisco to come see him. Cisco had read every one.

“He won’t threaten me,” Cisco said. “He didn’t threaten me when I annulled the marriage, even after he begged me not to. Testifying against him won’t change his mind about . . . us.”

“There is no ‘us’ with the two of you,” Barry said firmly.

Cisco smiled and shook his head in agreement. He had said the same thing himself, after all. He was coming to understand, though, that there would always be an ‘us’ when it came to him and Eobard. Even if it was broken and twisted and evil, they would always be something.

Once Barry and Iris left him alone in the spare room, he opened the letter.

_ My love, _

_ I forgive you. You don’t need my forgiveness, after everything that’s happened, but I forgive you anyway. I hope one day that forgiveness will mean something, that it will be something you don’t need, but want. I hope one day you will come to desire no bad blood between us, that you’ll want that just as much as I do. _

_ My heart compels me to beg your forgiveness, even though I know I’ve done little to deserve it. If you give me just one more chance, I promise I will earn it. I swear to you, I will show you how much I love you. All I can ask for right now is your company, just for a few minutes, to tell you how sorry I am. Come to me, my love, that’s all I ask of you. _

_ I ache to see you again. _

_ Love, _

_ Eobard _

Cisco folded the letter back up and returned it to the envelope. Then he reached under the bed and pulled out the shoebox, and placed it with the others. One day, he’d have what it took to burn them.

One day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i considered ending this with the verdict, but i'll leave that up to your imaginations.


End file.
